


Induction

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-20
Updated: 2009-04-20
Packaged: 2017-10-14 09:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/147920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prussia – East – sits beside him, overlooking the grey concrete buildings rising up around them like ragged teeth, and laughs hoarsely. “Welcome to the Soviet Bloc, huh?” He passes a hand over his face, not looking at Lithuania.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Induction

Prussia swings a leg over Lithuania’s lap, settling on him confidently and slinging his arms about Lithuania’s neck, tossing a bottle of lubricant on the bed. The cheap mattress squeaks under their weight, springs protesting.

“Suppose we should get this over with, yeah?” Prussia says flippantly, grasping the back of Lithuania’s head and leaning in to crush his mouth against his.

Prussia’s mouth against his own is demanding, insistent, and Lithuania brings his hands up to clutch at Prussia’s short hair, tugging. Prussia pulls back for a breath to bite at Lithuania’s lower lip, getting a muted moan out of him; Prussia’s grinning as he leans back in, and Lithuania takes the chance to sweep his tongue into Prussia’s mouth, refusing to back down.

This shouldn’t be as good as it already is – he’s always been partial to the slow and gentle, but there’s something irrepressibly bold about Prussia, even now, that makes him kiss back hard, occasionally pulling away to bite lightly at Prussia’s lips even as he feels Prussia reaching to slick up his own fingers.

The movement of his arm behind him makes it all too clear what he is doing, shamelessly straightforward about it all. Prussia moves against him confidently, rolling his hips against his.

That was all Prussia, really– fast and hard, with little gentleness. But really, Lithuania doesn’t want gentleness, doesn’t trust a gentle touch right now. Instead, there’s something about Prussia’s rough hedonism that coils under his skin and makes him want to just let go, to touch and be touched.

He leans forward again to catch Prussia’s lips with his own, groaning into Prussia’s mouth as Prussia strokes his cock with a slick hand. Prussia chuckles against his lips, leaning forward to run his teeth lightly along Lithuania’s neck, sending a shiver through him. “Ha, d’you think you’re ready for this?”

Lithuania resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Think I’ll be able to handle it, somehow,” he says, though his voice is a bit less steady than he’d like. He covers it up by tugging at Prussia’s hips, tracing his thumbs over the sharp cut of his hipbones. Prussia smirks, shifting forward obligingly.

They both let out a soft, deep groan when Prussia sinks down on him, taking him in one quick, firm movement, not stopping until Lithuania is completely sheathed in him-- hot, tight, and so close to perfect. He pauses for a moment, leaning his forehead against Lithuania’s, his eyes closed and his breath coming in puffs against Lithuania’s cheek.

“Seems like old times, eh?” Prussia says, his voice only a little breathless. “Well, something like it, ha.”

“I-- I suppose the position is right.”

Prussia grins fiercely—that same look he’d seen on the other side of the battlefield so many times. “Ha, you wish.” His legs flex, lifting himself, and he thrusts himself down hard, leaning in to bite at Lithuania’s shoulder, a quick, hot nip that makes him gasp and clutch at Prussia’s hips.

Lost in the rush of blood and heat between him and Prussia, it seems as if he can hear the clanging of swords and smell the sharp tang of iron, feel the surge of adrenalin and the thrumming of blood through his veins, Poland at his side and Prussia’s raucous laugh calling above the roar of charging horses, brutal and simple. Uncomplicated.

For an instant, he can almost forget about Russia’s presence in the room, waiting at the edges of his senses, watching.

He barely notices when Russia drifts closer, tugging off his greatcoat and scarf, and settling on the bed, not touching yet, but simply sitting close.

Both he and Prussia stiffen at Russia’s sudden presence, the rhythm they had built up between them faltering and stopping at the first touch of slick gloved fingers, at first simply stroking gently along the sensitive skin where they are joined, and there’s a sudden tension in the air. There’s a breath, before there’s a push, working in a thick finger in beside Lithuania’s cock, and, oh god, it’s already so, so tight. Prussia gasps, his eyes flying open wide and his grip tightening on Lithuania’s shoulder.

“Fuck—what—Russia, don’t you da—“

Prussia cuts himself off with another ragged gasp as Russia makes a soft shushing sound, already pushing in another finger beside the other, the leather glove cold and slick compared to the almost unbearable heat that envelops Lithuania. Prussia’s breathing is loud in his ear, his body tense and strung as a bow against him.

Russia strokes his hand down Prussia’s chest, the back of his knuckles barely brushing against Lithuania’s own body, coming to rest between them on Prussia’s belly and making slow, soothing circles.

“East, you really must relax, yes? I would not like to hurt you, after all.”

Prussia gives a short, barking laugh. “T-that’s a good one. Ha.”

Russia moves his fingers in short, insistent little pushes, steady and inexorable, and Lithuania feels his breath rush in and out of his chest, unable to stop his hips from jerking up. Prussia’s grip on his shoulder is almost bruisingly tight, his body unwillingly shifting and moving, the pressure alleviating as his body opens up for them. Lithuania doesn’t dare speak right now, senseless words caught in the back of his throat.

“Lithuania, won’t you lie down? I’m sure you’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Lithuania startles as he hears Russia speak to him for the first time, glancing quickly over Prussia’s shoulder. Russia simply smiles at him, continuing to stroke Prussia’s side. He obeys slowly, easing himself down, lips pressed tightly together as Russia nods approvingly. Prussia follows soon after, bracing his arms on either side of Lithuania’s head as Russia pushes him down with a hand on his back. He can see Prussia’s arms shaking slightly.

He doesn’t know where to put his hands. His fingers twitch, and he’s tempted to reach up, to run a hand down Prussia’s flank, but Prussia wouldn’t want comfort, wouldn’t want pity. Lithuania settles on clenching the sheets tightly, not letting himself let go. Russia’s fingers continue to move against him, picking up a steady, firm rhythm that Lithuania can’t help but follow, closing his eyes tightly.

To his mortification, he can’t help but make a small noise of loss when Russia’s fingers pull out, echoed by a hiss from Prussia. Lithuania blinks his eyes open again to see Russia kneeling down behind Prussia, straddling Lithuania’s legs and knocking Prussia’s knees further apart. He can see Prussia’s eyes widen, realization sinking in fully.

There’s a sudden spasm of movement from Prussia, struggling against Russia’s tight grip on his hips. “Fucking shit – Russia, fuck, stop—“ Prussia says, twisting around sharply.

Lithuania’s eyes widen, grabbing at the sheets hard—he can feel Russia pushing in beside him, and there’s no way they can both fit, no way.

“East, didn’t you say you could take anything I could dish out? It’s not like you to go back on such promises.” Russia’s voice shakes only the slightest bit as he gives a short thrust in.

Prussia’s arms buckle slightly, almost collapsing. “Fuck, d-don’t call me that. Don’t.”

“Would you like Gilbert better for now? You can’t be called Prussia now, after all.”

Prussia’s face turns furious, throat working frantically to get out something and managing only inarticulate noises of rage and humiliation. He visibly reins himself back, biting his lip, silent.

Russia gives another short thrust, working himself in just the slightest bit more, and every inch more seems impossibly, impossibly tight. Prussia’s hands are tightly fisted in the sheets by his head, and Lithuania focuses on that, can’t look at Prussia. He can hear Russia breathing steadily above the both of them.

Russia grasps Prussia’s hips more tightly, and moves suddenly in a long, smooth thrust until, God, he’s completely inside and oh, it’s too, too much. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t, but it feels so tight, so hot, and he can’t help but cry out.

Prussia’s lip is bleeding where he’s bitten through it, blood shining red for an instant before he brings a shaking hand up to swipe at his lip, painting a streak across his cheek.

“Is that all you’ve got, h-huh? You fuck—“ Prussia gasps out tightly, and it’s so wrong to hear that edge of desperation to Prussia’s words.

“I— I am going to move now, East,” Russia rumbles, stroking a hand down Prussia’s spine and letting it come to rest in the dip of his back.

Lithuania can see Prussia’s chest heaving convulsively, his pale skin angrily flushed. “Just—just do it a-already, you bastard.”

The first real thrust seems to drag along every raw nerve in his body. He just can’t seem get any air into his lungs, unable to do anything except gasp and feel his own hips

God, Prussia’s body is so tense, a single, shaking line between them, and god, he was going to break like this, they were going to break him—but Prussia doesn’t break, the bastard, he just keeps on kicking and biting and fighting— and it’s tight, so tight, Russia’s cock almost burningly hot against his own, sliding slickly in, every slight movement making him gasp at the sensations breaking over him in waves, skirting the edge of too much.

Prussia’s intermittent grunts were now a steady stream of breathless cursing escaping from between his clenched teeth, his eyes closed where his head hung down, as if he didn’t have the strength to hold it up any more. Russia reaches forward, loosely cupping his hand around Prussia’s throat, and draws Prussia’s body against his own, Prussia letting go a hoarse yell as everything—shifts, the heat and friction almost unbearable.

Prussia looks lost, eyes wide open, turning his face into Russia’s neck to try and muffle a low, desperate moan. There’s something mesmerizing about the pink of Prussia’s open mouth that makes Lithuania want to touch him, to slip a finger inside his mouth and feel the slick softness there. But he can’t reach him, can’t tug him away from Russia’s embrace-- can only run his hands over Prussia’s legs, thumbs tracing little circles on the thin skin of his inner thighs, soft and vulnerable.

Russia has a hand wrapped around Prussia’s cock, stroking lightly, Prussia’s hips unconsciously swaying into the loose grip. “You—you are very pretty like this, East. So—open. So pretty,” Russia says, holding Prussia closer to him, an arm bracketing his chest. “I will—take care of you, yes? Yes.” Lithuania has to block out Russia’s soft, breathless whisper, can’t look at Prussia and the fury and resignation etched into each shaking muscle as he thrusts up into Russia’s hand.

Lithuania runs his hands restlessly along Prussia’s spread thighs—he can feel the muscles there shaking – unable to keep his hips still, needing to move, to—

Lithuania feels the tight squeeze of Prussia’s body first, making him gasp and thrust up hard, vaguely registering the sight of Prussia biting his lip tight and coming silently into Russia’s hand, Russia petting Prussia’s side with a low murmur of “good, good,” as Prussia shakes through the aftershocks.

He seems to take a moment to collect himself, his breathing ragged, before roughly pushing himself away from Russia and planting a hand on Lithuania’s chest, bracing his knees wide on the bed and squeezing deliberately around the both of them, still panting harshly.

“Come already, you—ah—bastard,” Prussia’s voice is wrecked, and he’s pushing himself down roughly onto the both of them.

And it’s too, too much, and he just has to—let go.

He can feel Russia thrusting a few more times before stilling and shuddering deeply, letting out a shaky sigh. Russia slumps against Prussia’s back, hands still roving and gently petting. For a moment, the three of them breathe, slowly and shakily.

Prussia starts shifting, his muscles gathering as if trying to tense up again, but his body won’t seem to obey, constantly lapsing back to an exhausted slackness. The movement makes Russia pull back a little, still cradling Prussia, making a soft shushing sound again. Russia pulls a hand back, as if curious, reaching down and tracing the stretched, tight skin around him and Lithuania, making Prussia let out a sharp hiss, his body jerking all at once.

“One at a time, yes?” Russia says. Prussia scowls and opens his mouth to make some kind of remark, before closing his mouth and nodding tightly, hands fisted in the sheets and teeth gritted as Russia slips out. Everything feels oversensitive, raw.

Lithuania tries reaching towards Prussia to help brace him, but Prussia knocks his hands away, pushing himself up slowly and collapsing to Lithuania’s side with a rough breath of air, throwing an arm over his eyes. It’s—odd to see him say nothing.

Russia is the first to move; through the filter of his eyelashes, Lithuania can see him head towards the bathroom, the harsh neon light clicking on for an instant, and the sound of running water trickling sluggishly.

Russia comes out again a little later with a damp towel, now dressed. He feels the bed dip under Russia’s weight again and turns slowly towards the dip, keeping Russia in sight. Russia runs a hand down Prussia’s spine, Prussia jerking away from the touch and letting go a stifled curse at the sudden movement.

“Fuck off. I’ll clean myself up,” Prussia says. Russia simply shrugs, handing over the towel.

Lithuania steels himself to not pull away as Russia leans over and brushes his hand over Lithuania’s cheek almost tenderly—possessively.

“Ah, Lithuania, we shall discuss the matter regarding the newest economic plan later, yes?”

He nods stiffly.

“Good, good.” With that, Russia sweeps out of the room, closing the door with a click and leaving the both of them in the dim light.

Lithuania sighs, rolling onto his side. The curtains were closed—ah, that’s why it was so dark. He shifts over, sitting up and tugging open the dingy curtains to the asphalt-grey sky and letting a flat morning light filter into the room. It’s a familiar light, the sort that makes everything seem all too real, harshly stark.

He opens his mouth, wanting to say something—anything—and closes it again. Anything he says right now would be at best, cold comfort, and at worst, a lie. He doesn’t like lying to anyone, these days.

Prussia – East—shifts slowly from his prone position, moving gingerly to sit beside him, overlooking the grey concrete buildings rising up around them like ragged teeth, and laughs hoarsely. “Welcome to the Soviet Bloc, huh?” He passes a hand over his face, not looking at Lithuania. Prussia’s movements are stiff, restrained, as if holding himself together.

He feels so tired.

All Lithuania wants to do is to curl under the covers, to sleep. Instead, he stands up, stepping into his clothes and heading for the small kitchenette to put the percolator on the stove. There’s a crack in the linoleum that he should fix.

He hands Prussia a mug of coffee, sitting down on the bed again. “It’s cold in the morning,” he says, and Prussia’s mouth quirks up.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Prussia says, his voice still rough. The coffee’s cheap, but it’s hot, the warmth gradually seeping into his hands, and Prussia’s body is warm beside his. That, for now, has to be enough.


End file.
